Market.

To avoid another day of “vacationing” in Zambia, B and I hopped on a minibus for an adventure in town. Thanks to the advice and patience of some new Zambian friends, we had a very eventful day doing some shopping and getting to know the main downtown area. A slow Sunday was a great day for us to get some bearings on the city without the hustle and bustle of a working day. B, due to his missing luggage, has only one outfit and I am officially his fashion consultant.

Some things heard at the Lusaka City Market:
“Hey, big man… big white man…”
“Mr. White, come here… if you don’t buy some fish, I will hurt you.”
“Hey white man, how is your wife?”
(if B didn’t notice the comments before, that one got his attention)
“How come you’re not buying your wife anything?” asks the female shopkeeper when B was paying for his shirts.
“Buy from me and I will remember you forever… when I come to your country, I will buy something from you… or maybe you can marry me.”
Man selling jewellery says, “this [necklace] looks very nice on you… it’s from China, your country, you should buy it.”

We had no shortage of material to laugh over on the way home. I was intrigued at how I was rarely addressed directly and if someone spoke to me, they called me white man’s (mzungu) wife. Interesting… (but not surprising).